


Night Games

by Deans_Fetish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-06
Updated: 2009-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Sometimes, all they have to look forward to are Night Games...





	

The fan is blowing cold air from the air conditioner across his skin, making goose bumps form on his naked flesh as he lays there in utter darkness.

Candles burn low in the motel room, their perfumed smell only slightly chasing away the overbearing order of bleach and cleaning products, but neither he nor the one watching him from across the room seem to care.

His cock, hard and aching, arches upward toward his stomach, a small tear of precum slowly dripping down the side, like melting wax on one of the over used candles.

Lips part as his tongue darts out to moisten his suddenly too dry lips, head lifting from the pillows as he strains against the leather bindings holding his body securely fastened to the bed.

The blackness of the blindfold offers high contrast to his sun kissed skin, that seems to glow in the flickering low light, accentuated by the sliver of silver of the moon that peeks through the part in the curtains, spilling over the bed.

“D-D-Dean?” the whispered word somewhere between a plea and a demand, tinged with uncertainty and trepidation, mingled oddly with a bravado that could only come from a stubborn Winchester.

The figure across the room slowly steps toward the bed, climbing up at the foot of the bed, he makes his way, on hands and knees over the other, dipping his head down to brush soft full lips against his neck.

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean asks, his voice soft, deep, husky with arousal. 

Sam writhes against the bed under him, arching his back upward, trying to press against his brother.

“Please,” Sam begs softly, a sigh of breath.

Dean smiles against the smooth column of his brother’s throat, “I gotcha, Sammy. I gotcha…”


End file.
